


Officer Grayson and the revenge of the Blüdhaven Butcher

by Canadian_girl2000



Series: Whumptober 2020 [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry Dick Grayson, Kidnapping, Rescue, The other batboys show up at the end, Torture, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, you'll get hugs I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadian_girl2000/pseuds/Canadian_girl2000
Summary: Getting kidnapped sucked. Getting kidnapped as Dick Grayson sucked even more. Getting kidnapped by a criminal you'd sentenced to life was a thousand times worse, especially when they want revenge.Whumptober day 4: "No, stop!"
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: Whumptober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946773
Comments: 4
Kudos: 183





	Officer Grayson and the revenge of the Blüdhaven Butcher

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure I like this one much, but for some reason, I was struggling with this prompt. 
> 
> Either way, enjoy poor Dick suffering once more.

Getting kidnapped was never any fun. Just about every criminal in Gotham had a grudge against Batman and Bruce Wayne, which didn’t bode well for his kids in and out of costume. At least when they got caught in costume, they could fight back or even escape. As a civilian, however, there was nothing to be done other than to wait.

That was the exact situation where Dick Grayson found himself. All he’d wanted was a burger. A simple cheeseburger. Instead, he got himself kidnapped. Instead of enjoying a nice, warm burger, he was tied to a chair in the middle of a warehouse (what was it with criminals and warehouses? Seriously?), under the watchful eye of two goons. These guys were clearly new in the business. As Nightwing, he could have easily slipped out of the restraints, kicked both their butts and gone back on his quest for a burger. As Dick Grayson, however, he needed to sit there and listen to the two prattle on as if he wasn’t there.

The worst part? It wasn’t even an interesting conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt your riveting conversation, but what exactly is the plan here?” he asked, straining his neck to look at the two goons. Their conversation stopped short and goon #1, dubbed Clint because of his hard Texan accent, stepped towards him in what he surely thought was an intimidating way. Dick rated his walk a solid 4/10. Not intimidating, at all. Or maybe it was that Dick had seen too much shit to be intimidated so easily.

“Shut yer mouth pretty boy,” Clint growled, slamming the butt of his gun against Dick’s head. Wow. Rude.

“I’m just saying. We’ve been here, what? Half an hour or so? And nothing happened. Can’t blame a guy for being curious.”

Clint raised his gun again, but goon #2, dubbed Vader because of his horrible looking face and his deep voice, put his hand out, stopping Clint mid-motion.  
“Don’t damage him yet. We need to wait for the boss,” he said. Ha. The idiot had given Dick some information. They were waiting for a boss which meant this probably wasn’t a ransom kidnapping. That was slightly more alarming because it meant he wouldn’t be contacting Bruce, which in turn meant no Batman. He just had to let this play out.

Thankfully, he only had to wait another few minutes before the warehouse door slammed open. In walked 3 more goons before a person in a suit stepped in. Dick’s heart stopped. The man was Derek ‘The Butcher’ Elliot, a murderer Officer Dick Grayson had locked away 6 months ago.

‘The Butcher’ wasn’t an inaccurate nickname. Derek was known for chopping off appendages with a butcher knife, and when the victim died, either of shock or blood loss, he would cut them into pieces and sell them on the black market. Dick had chased him for months, as both cop and vigilante. 6 months ago, he’d been tipped off about The Butcher’s hideout. Even with all the shit Dick had seen, when he walked into the meat locker he nearly puked. The room was filled with corpses, strung up on meat hooks. Most of them were cut open, stripped of organs and muscles, nothing left but a husk. That whole case had been a nightmare. Derek had been sentenced to life, with no parole. And yet, here he was. Dick could feel dread starting to pool in his stomach.

“Well, if it isn’t Officer Grayson. Fancy seeing you here,” Derek said, walking over to Dick. A few of the goons laughed, but Dick ignored them. This wasn’t going to end well. He was thankful that ‘The Butcher’ only used his personal knife, and that he would never use any other. That knife was locked up in the BPD evidence locker. He hoped. So in theory, his fingers should survive if he did.

“It certainly helps that you had me kidnapped,” Dick growled out. “How’d you escape?”

Derek walked around the chair, coming to a stop behind Dick. “Oh, you know. The grey walls were starting to get boring,” he leaned in next to Dick’s ear, “and you know there ain’t a single cop in Blüdhaven that ain’t crooked. All it took was a little bribe. But-” he started as he straightened out, walking the rest of the way around Dick, “-enough about me. I’ve been thinking about this day for a long time now.”

Derek nodded to one of the new goons, and the goon stepped forwards and handed Derek a bloody apron. Dick’s stomach dropped. He was fucked.

“Can’t we talk about this?” he said weakly, praying that somehow, somewhere, one of the bats would notice he was missing.

The smile he got in return was terrifying. “I think I’ll start by breaking that mouthy mouth of yours.” Before he could brace himself for the impact a fist collided with his jaw, sending his head flying backwards. Derek grabbed his hair and yanked his head forwards and another punch connected with his jaw. Dick knew that his jaw had been dislocated. He struggled, trying to get the hand out of his hair, to get away from The Butcher. The hand in his hair tightened.

“Right. Now that that’s done, how about we break the hands that cuffed me? How does that sound, Officer?” All Dick could do was make a pained whine as he continued to struggle. He curled his hand into a fist as best he could while having them restrained.

Derek tsked. “None of that now, Officer.” He grabbed Dicks right hand and pried his fist open, one finger at a time. Then he pulled each of Dick’s fingers out of their socket. With each pull, Dick let out a muffled scream, which only aggravated his jaw. His vision went white. He needed to get out, he needed to get out! His struggles doubled as Derek yanked his other hand open and repeated the process. He must have blacked out because the next thing he knew, a fist connected with his chest. Once, twice, three times. Black dots were dancing before his eyes and when the fourth punch landed, he blacked out completely.

He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he slowly trudged his way back to consciousness he could hear gunshots and shouting. He couldn’t make out what exactly through the fog clouding his brain. His jaw was numb and his chest was on fire. He wheezed out a shaky breath and slowly lifted his head. Most of the goons from before were missing. He could only see two and both were pointing their guns at the door. The gunshots were getting closer.

Suddenly the chair he was tied to was being dragged backwards. It stopped when the warehouse door was kicked open. Standing there, in all his glory, was the Red Hood. Dick couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. They were here. His family was here. Two more calculated shots had the two remaining goons crashing to the floor. The hand was back in his hair, pulling his head up. Something cold pressed itself against the side of his head. At Jason’s growl, he knew it was a gun.

“Stop right there, or the Officer gets it!” Derek screamed. Dick watched his brother tense up.

“Let. Him. Go.” Jason growled, both hands going white-knuckled as his grip tightened on his guns.

“I don’t think I will.” Dick heard the sound of the gun cocking, the barrel pressing harder against his skull.

“NO, STOP!” Jason yelled. A gunshot ran out. Dick’s heart stopped. He waited a few moments before peeling his eyes open. Jason was standing still, arm raised, the barrel of his gun smoking. Oh. He slumped into the chair, the sudden adrenaline gone. He closed his eyes.

* * *

“Dick! DICK! C’mon Dickie, don’t do this to me” Jason tapped the side of Dick’s head lightly. “Seriously Dick, you need to wake up!”

Someone was calling his name. Dick opened his eyes to find Jason staring at him, worry etched into his face.

“ay?” he managed to slur through his dislocated jaw.

“It’s me Dickiebird. We’re gonna get you out of this chair, okay?” Jason said, before slowly undoing the ropes binding Dick’s left hand. The sudden rush of blood to his hand made it feel like his fingers were on fire. He must have let out a whimper because Jason was suddenly back in his line of sight.

“It’s okay, we just need to get you out of here before Alfred can patch you up. Then we’ll watch one of those dumb movies you like, okay?” Dick nodded slowly, closing his eyes again. “Don’t fall asleep, okay Big Bird?”

Jason untied his other hand and slowly pulled him into his arms, bridal style. He felt his brother raise his hand to his ear, probably to turn on his comm.

“B, it’s bad. It’s really bad. We need a pickup” Dick couldn’t hear what the answer was, but Jason grunted in agreement to it.

“Batmobile’s gonna be here soon, okay Dick? You just need to hang on for a few more minutes.”

Dick tried, he really did. But the pain was unbearable. He blacked out as Jason screamed his name.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was the pain. His chest was on fire, his fingers were burning and his jaw was in agony. The second thing he noticed was the feeling of a body curled up against his. He slowly opened his eyes. He was in the Batcave's small med-bay. He glanced down and found Damian sleeping next to his, his body pressed as close as he could without it being painful to Dick. He looked around. Tim was snoozing in the other cot that had been pushed up next to his. Jason was dozing in the chair next to his cot, book open on his lap and his hand resting on Dick’s arm. Bruce was sitting next to Jason, help tilted back as soft snores escaped him. Dick smiled softly. Everything would be alright. He let sleep wash over him, taking comfort knowing that he was with his family and that he was safe.

* * *

[My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/canadian-girl2000)

**Author's Note:**

> The ending feels a little off. Sorry about that.
> 
> Edit: I think I should specify that Jason didn't kill The Butcher. Bruce also called the cops to clear up the scene.
> 
> To all the people who left Kudos or comments on my other fics: I love you guys so much. You are all awesome and so nice!
> 
> One more fic and I'll be caught up with Whumptober!


End file.
